


One Last Time

by oftennot



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Prompt: Sometimes you have to suffer for a happy ending, Prompt: Time Travel, Time Travel, Widojest Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21878152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftennot/pseuds/oftennot
Summary: Caleb would’ve gladly followed Jester to the edges of the earth.He never thought she would lead him further, past the boundaries of other planes, beyond the tethers of time and reality itself, where even the gods were held captive.Jester Lavorre was a goddess, and it damned all of them.(In which Jester is, or becomes, the Traveler.)
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 12
Kudos: 153





	One Last Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theseasdancingotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseasdancingotter/gifts).



> This fic is a gift for Otterlyart as a part of the Widojest Server's Secret Santa! I answered two of their prompts: Sometimes you have to suffer for a happy ending, and Time Travel. 
> 
> Special thanks to pinkevilbob and EyeLoch for sharing your ideas about this AU. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! It's a painful ride.

The change, like most momentous things, happened slowly and gradually over time. It takes centuries—millennia, even—for water to carve away at stone and create valleys and caverns. The result transforms the topography of the earth itself, never to be the same again. 

It’s no wonder, then, that they were too late to notice the changes happening right before their eyes. The Mighty Nein was a tight-knit group of wayward adventurers, always biting off more than they could chew, yet somehow coming out victorious. With each passing day they grew stronger and more competent, both as a group and individuals. 

Why should they have questioned Jester’s growth in power? It was only natural that her strength and prowess would continue to improve. They witnessed her perform small miracles day after day. From a simple touch of her hand and the warmth of her Guidance spell trailing over them, to the ethereal radiance of a diamond posed over the fallen body of a teammate. Imbued with the divine power of The Traveler, the once still chest would surge with the first breath of renewed life as prayers spilled forth from Jester’s lips. 

Jester’s magic had always been different. She didn’t study theory or ancient texts like Caleb, and though she drew her power from a god, her relationship with the Traveler wasn’t the same as Fjord with Uk’otoa, nor like Caduceus with the Wildmother. There was never a question of the Wildmother’s hand in the miracles she performed through Fjord and Caduceus, and her relationship with her chosen champions was warm, motherly, and evident for all to behold. 

As was apt for a god of trickery and mischief, the Traveler preferred to work from the shadows, avoiding the spotlight. Jester was the main show; he merely afforded her a stage upon which to shine. The others never truly caught a glimpse of the elusive god. Maybe a whisper in an ear here, or the feel of hands guiding a shot true there, but these small moments could just as easily be written off as figments of imagination. All they had to go on was Jester’s word, and out of love and a desire to support their dear friend, who were they to question her? 

And they weren’t wrong. Jester was always special, anyone could figure that out within seconds of meeting the tiefling and falling for her irresistible charm. She was one of a kind, unlike anyone else in this wretched world. Her magic, too, was unique. Even when she performed basic spells that any caster could, there was something so undeniably _Jester_ about it that made it stand out. When people tried to offer praise for her amazing work, she would bashfully smile and defer, stating that it was thanks to the Traveler, isn’t he so amazing? 

_You are,_ Caleb wanted to say each time her eyes widened in shock and disbelief that she was the miracle, not some secretive god. _You are truly something amazing._

He had been correct. Oh gods, he had never wished so dearly to be mistaken. Romantics of every age wax poetic about their lovers being divine, something sacred to be worshiped. Caleb had entertained many such thoughts about Jester, had even joked about it with her before.

 _Could it work in tiers, so that we are your disciples and you are his?_ He had asked with a smirk as she tried yet again to convince the group to become followers of the Traveler. It was a joke made with stunning ease for someone usually so somber, but like all good jokes, it was laced with truth. Caleb would’ve gladly followed Jester to the edges of the earth. 

He never thought she would lead him further, past the boundaries of other planes, beyond the tethers of time and reality itself, where even the gods were held captive. 

Jester Lavorre was a goddess, and it damned all of them. 

* * *

Where did Jester begin and the Traveler end? The question haunted Caleb constantly. Had the Traveler been a creation of her young and lonely mind, desperate for companionship? Or had he indeed been a god who recognized the potential and untapped power within a girl who had a talent for pranks and causing ruckus? 

Worshipers of Jester the Traveler, Deity of Trickery, accepted the latter: the goddess had always proclaimed herself to be merely the vessel of the Traveler. Skeptical scholars and gossiping commoners who watched the events unfold from the outside believed the former. It made for a better, more fantastical story to recount to family and friends on a chilly evening beside a fire, or to delight the curious mind of a child as they drifted into the land of dreams and slumber. Those who had personally met her when she was simply Jester Lavorre, daughter of The Ruby of the Sea, could brag to others that they had met a god before her ascension. 

It made the story of the Mighty Nein, the saviors of Wildemount, more heroic and exciting. _Of course_ they had stopped a senseless and bloody war between the Kingdom and Dynasty. _Of course_ they had uncovered and thwarted the nefarious plot of an evil deity from returning to the earth to wreak destruction and chaos. They had a god working with them. 

Caleb could not begrudge people for placing Jester upon a divine pedestal. He had been the first to eagerly kneel and offer up his unwavering devotion to her. At the time he thought of it as an act of love, of romance—a testament to the purity of his feelings for her. Now, he saw it for what it was; naught but arrogance and naivety. A curse laid upon them both. 

He had encouraged Jester, had acted as someone who would support her and be there for her during that confusing and uncertain time. He remembered the way her teeth would worry at her lips, eyes creased with doubt. 

_I don’t know if I can do this. All these people are depending on me, Caleb. What if I let them down?_

Her hands were shaking with anxiety, and he had reached out with his own to steady them. 

_I have no doubt that you can do this, blueberry. You were meant for this._

_Thank you, Caleb._

The memory taunted him, tortured him. _See how you failed her? How you lead her astray? She_ trusted _you and you lead her to ruin._

Everything happened so fast. There was so much to process, so much going on. First the end of a war and then the dawn of a peaceful era. None of them had been prepared to deal with becoming heroes of the continent overnight. They dealt with it like they had handled everything else up to that point—act first, question later. Things always seemed to work themselves out, one way or another. High on the glory of victory and celebration, Jester’s slow but steady increase in following was hardly a cause for concern. 

_Kovak showed up today. He said… he said he wants to follow me._

_That’s amazing, Jester. You’ve always been the Traveler’s number one supporter._

_He said he wants to be_ my _follower. Not the Traveler’s._

_Oh. Well, that’s basically the same thing, right? Your powers come from him._

_Yeah. Yeah, of course._

The Mighty Nein had dealt with the revelation of Jester’s divinity in different ways. It was a harsh and painful realization that Jester had always been the heart of the group, and without her the once steadfast threads of camaraderie and loyalty that held them together quickly unraveled. 

Nott had her family to return to. Her thirst for adventure had been fulfilled. After all, if brokering peace in the middle of a bloody war and stopping a god was not enough to satiate one’s appetite, what possibly could? 

_My husband and son are waiting for me,_ she told him. Though he had been the one to revert her back to her body as Veth, it was still difficult for Caleb to reconcile the halfling woman in front of him with the goblin he had shared a bedroll with and put his life on the line for many times in their years together. 

_It’s time for me to go home._

_Are we not also your home?_ ( _Am I not home to you?_ is what he really wanted to ask, but he swallowed the words down his throat and they cut like knives.)

Veth's hazel eyes flitted over to their tiefling friend, where she greeted yet another incoming group of people who had traveled far across the continent to follow the fabled Jester Lavorre. 

_I don’t think there’s a place for me here anymore._ The words severed something vital and deep inside Caleb. He hadn’t been able to offer up an argument against such a preposterous idea, and he was left to watch Veth’s form grow smaller on the horizon until she disappeared from sight. 

He would see her again in the face of Luc, now grown and adventuring on his own, come to find out for himself what the hype around Jester the Traveler was about. 

_Mom talks about you and Jester all the time._ His hazel eyes, so like his mother’s, rolled with the offhand comment. _It sounds interesting._

Luc Brenatto remained one of the most devout worshipers of the Traveler. Caleb considered this yet another one of his sins for the pain it must cause Veth and Yeza. 

Fjord and Caduceus had been the next to leave. After the abrupt departure of Veth, Jester had been extra sensitive and attentive to her closest friends, hardly able to let them out of her sight for fear that they too would slip away without notice. 

It was as hard and terrible as Caleb expected it to be. 

_Why?_ Jester cried at Fjord, shoving him, pounding her fists against his back. Fjord couldn’t bring himself to face her, for if he had, the sight of her anguish and tears would surely have broken his resolve. 

_I’m sorry, Jessie. I have my own destiny to follow._ His words came out smooth and unperturbed, and if Caleb hadn’t been facing the man, he would’ve believed the confidence his tone conveyed. But his face told a different story—Fjord’s mouth was shaking and a trail of silent tears streamed down his face. The only thing holding him together was the grave yet steady face of Caduceus, who knelt beside Jester and gathered her distraught form in his arms, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. 

_This is not the end,_ _my dear,_ he told her, _but the beginning of something new and exciting for us all._

Jester clung to him, her tears soaking into his pink hair, and Caduceus rubbed comforting circles into her back until her sobs quieted into hiccups. It was only then that Jester rose to her feet and Fjord finally turned to face her. She ran into his arms and he held her fast and tight against him. A few words were shared between them, too low and quiet for Caleb’s ears to catch, but he supposed they weren’t meant for him anyway. 

When they let each other go, Fjord grabbed Caduceus’s hand with a tentative smile, and they too wandered off into the distance. Caleb remained by Jester’s side, silent, the warmth of the day eventually fading into the chill of the night. After an indeterminate amount of time Jester sighed and turned to him, a heartbroken smile on her face. 

_Ready to head back?_

_Only if you are._

Calen thought Yasha would’ve been the first to leave the group, but she surprised them all, and perhaps herself the most, by staying. She still departed for a few days or weeks at a time, but the darkening skies and heavy air before an approaching storm always alerted them when she did. And as the skies cleared and the sun shined upon the dampened earth, Yasha would return to the newly erected temple to the Traveler. 

She helped Jester weed the spot of earth she had selected and plant flowers around the stone edges. Yasha was a silent and steady presence that guarded Jester fiercely, glaring at any authorities that dared to approach the burgeoning religion in an attempt to reign it under the law of the land. One look from Yasha would send them cowering in their robes, never to return. 

_I understand what it’s like to be told that you’re special and to have a destiny greater than anything you ever asked for,_ Yasha told him one night after they tucked Jester into her bed, exhausted and dead to the world from a day of inducting new followers of the Traveler and overseeing the construction of the temple. 

Caleb didn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed when he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair out of Jester’s face and tuck it behind her ear in front of Yasha. She would never say anything or bring unwanted attention to his affections. He appreciated that about her, just as he appreciated her continuing presence. He wanted to be everything for Jester, to answer all her questions and give her everything she could ever want. But there were some things that even Caleb didn’t know and his books couldn’t tell him, and in those moments when he was unequipped to help Jester, he was glad that she had other generous and loving friends in Yasha, and, of course, Beauregard. 

Beau had wanted to remain by Jester’s side, there was never a question about it; but the Mighty Nein’s rising prominence in Wildemount for their heroic deeds meant that Beau’s standing and rank within the Cobalt Soul had also risen. She was often called away to Rexxentrum to attend formal meetings, make appearances, and consult on matters of high-level clearance. At first Beau tried to fight all the pomp and circumstance and shirk her newfound authority and responsibility, but Jester insisted she do otherwise. 

_You’ve earned this, Beau!_ She took Beau’s hands in hers and imploring her with her violet eyes. _I don’t want you to throw away this opportunity just for me._

_You don’t want me around here, Jess?_ She asked, and the raw, scared, and hesitant hurt in Beau’s eyes made Caleb turn away to give them their due privacy. 

Jester made a sound of disbelief. _Of course I do, Beau! I never want you to leave. What would I do without you? This can be your home to come back to whenever you’re finished with a mission, okay? I’ll always be here for you to come back to._

There was the sound of sniffling and rustle of fabric as they hugged. Beau gripped Caleb’s shoulder as she walked past him to leave. 

_You take care of her, you hear? You have to protect her._

_With my life._

Beau nodded, and they shared a look of painful understanding. It was hard watching the one you love grow beyond you, in what felt like being left behind. 

* * *

Caleb thought Jester would question him about why he didn’t leave. There were certainly opportunities for him in the rest of Wildemount. He could’ve followed Nott when she left—he had been offered a position in the newly reformed and cleaned out Cerberus Assembly—or he could’ve worked as a special ambassador between the Kingdom and Dynasty, but none of those truly appealed to him. His life had been exciting enough, and all he really wanted was to live out the rest of his days peacefully and quietly, away from the spotlight. 

Yet Jester never brought up those matters, and Caleb had no desire to explain himself. He felt he didn’t need to, anyway. He fit in perfectly with the world Jester was creating in the Traveler’s temple as the High Priestess. While he was never a religious man and not practiced in worship of the gods, he did understand magic, people, and how to deal with bureaucracy. He became Jester’s closest adviser, someone she turned to for counsel on all things business and personal. And in turn she gifted him with all the time, space, and materials needed to conduct his own research into the arcane. 

He remembers the breathtaking smile she wore upon her face, bouncing excitedly as she lead him to the doors of what would become his study. 

_Okay, you don’t have to say anything right away. Like, take a second to get a good look around and try out the equipment and books and stuff to make sure you will like it. And if you_ don’t _like it, please please please tell me and I will fix it right away and get_ whatever _you need—_

 _Jester,_ he interrupted her quietly, softly, the adoration leaking into his voice. _I’m sure it will be wonderful._

Of course _it will be, I’m the one who made it after all,_ she rolled her eyes good-naturedly. _But_ just _in case._

Her eyes gleamed like the sun as she watched his face in anticipation. _Are you ready?_

_Yes._

She swung open the doors with and sang _Ta-da!_ to reveal the laboratory Caleb had dreamed of having since he was a young boy.

He had been genuinely speechless as he stepped through the doors, nearly tripping over himself as he gaped at the room, turning to look at it from all sides. 

All the walls had floor to ceiling bookcases, packed full of tomes and scrolls. In one corner there was an armchair set beside a fireplace, the only break in the shelves, and the perfect place for him to spend ages reading through all the books once, twice, and thrice for good measure. In the center of the room was a collection of desks, one large and two smaller ones accompanying it. Atop of them were all the bobbles, gadgets, and equipment a wizard could ever want; when Essek came to visit he would compliment Jester for once on how well she had done. 

_Well?_ Jester’s voice, small and meek and awaiting his assessment brought him out of his astonishment. _What do you think?_

 _It is… more than I could ever ask for._ He went to her and for once did not hesitate as he initiated physical contact. He wrapped his arms around Jester, uncaring for station and decency and prying eyes. It was only the two of them, embracing in this room that Jester made for him. She spent hours and hours of her precious and scarce time thinking about him. Caleb was already unworthy of any time he was allowed to spend with her, and this act of kindness he knew he would spend his whole life repaying. So in the meantime, he held her close to him, buried his face in her neck and enjoyed the softness of her skin and the lavender scent of her hair. She returned the hug easily, happily, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Such displays of affection were second nature to Jester, who only knew how to love openly and genuinely. For Caleb it was something rare and all the more precious because of it, and he cautioned his rapidly beating heart not to read too much into the way she sighed into his touch and rubbed circles on his back.

 _Thank you, blueberry. It’s perfect._ ( _You’re perfect,_ he thought, but that he did not say.)

_You’re welcome, Caleb._

* * *

They became a unit, the two of them. A near inseparable pair. Their days would go like this: Jester would wake before Caleb and come to wake him in his chambers despite the fact that he was _her_ associate and it should probably function the other way around. They would grab a quick breakfast with Yasha and the slowly but steadily growing numbers of followers in the dining hall, during which time the designated group leaders would report the progress of their assigned tasks at the temple and the surrounding area. After breakfast, Jester and Caleb would check in around the temple to make sure all the workers were safe and happy, and to ensure that any issues were resolved and to procure whatever supplies were needed. Later in the day Jester would receive visitors, whether they were potential followers of the Traveler or traveling dignitaries or government workers come to check in on the progress of the temple and no doubt try to cause more trouble with the burgeoning religion. 

As the High Priestess of the Traveler, a new religion that had no set tenets or scripture as of yet, Jester got to make it up as she went along. For her, that meant pranks, mischief, and all the fun to be had in the world. She didn’t care for trying to proselytize directly to people as much as she liked to show what the Traveler was about and let them decide for themselves. That meant the official religious duties of the followers were to go out into nearby cities and towns and cause a little mischief and mayhem, just enough to make the right people smile and the mean people increasingly vexed. 

Pamphlets were always distributed after any such event, and a growing number of phallic images that were difficult or near impossible to remove from surfaces were left in their wake. The Traveler certainly gained a lot of notoriety in the years after the establishment of the temple, in equal numbers of admirers and staunch detractors. 

It’s hard for Caleb to pinpoint when, exactly, things started to change. Everyone always looked to Jester for guidance and wisdom on all things the Traveler. She always seemed so sure of herself, so confident in her relationship with her oldest friend and confidant, that Caleb himself had been floored when Jester whispered with such fear in her voice late one night in Caleb’s study as he worked at some stupid and inconsequential project, hardly paying attention, not seeing the pain she was in—

_I think the Traveler has left me._

It had taken a mere half second for the words to register in Caleb’s mind, but even that was a moment too long. His hands dropped whatever they were holding and he whipped around to face Jester. 

_What do you mean?_

The glow of the fire lit up her profile, bathing her skin in a golden warmth that was starkly at odds with the somber expression on her face. It was an expression so unlike Jester, foreign and strange and wrong on her. She gave no indication that she had been speaking or paying attention to him at all, but she continued on after he spoke.

 _He hasn’t spoken to me in months,_ she admitted. The confession knocked out whatever breath Caleb had left in his lungs. He felt a cold chill seep over the room and Jester herself shivered despite her proximity to the fire. Caleb snapped himself out of it, _damnit, Jester was hurting,_ and rushed over to her side. 

_Has this happened before?_

_No. Never._

_Well, maybe he knows that you are more than capable, and is letting you handle things by yourself._

_But I’ve called out to him so many times. I miss him. I_ need _him. There’s so often that I don’t know what to do or say and I get scared—_

_You can do this, Jester. You are brilliant. He wouldn’t have left you if he didn’t trust you._

If he hadn’t been kneeling right next to her, his eyes trained to her face for any minuscule movement, he would’ve missed the slight downturn of her lips that quickly reversed course and lifted into a smile, her eyes darting briefly to meet his.

_You’re right. Thank you, Caleb._

Caleb easily saw through the lie. He knew Jester better than he knew himself. She couldn’t fake a smile, not when hers were bright enough to outshine the sun and the moon and stars themselves. He was hurting because Jester was clearly in pain, but it hurt even more to know that she was lying to him, that she was trying to hide her pain and insecurities from him. 

He hadn’t felt this kind of distance from her in such a long time, and the thought that he was somehow anything less what she needed him to be nearly sent him into a panic. Jester needed him, and he was failing her. He had to do something.

 _You can tell me anything, Jester. You don’t have to pretend with me._ He reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. _I’m here for you._

She smiled at him again, this time with more of her familiar warmth behind it, and was silent for a few heartbeats as she looked into his eyes. Caleb was never sure of what she saw in them that night, but whatever she found caused her to lean forward and place a kiss upon his lips. 

It was chaste, short and nothing more than a simple touch from her to him. Caleb never felt more alive than in that moment. He must’ve sighed or made some kind of noise in response because Jester giggled as she pulled away. Not far, but just enough so she could look into his eyes and smile, a real Jester smile. 

_Jester?_ He asked, unsure of how to put what he so dearly wanted and craved and dreamed about into words but was terrified to ever request of her. She took the initiative for the both of them, like she so often did where things with him were concerned. 

_Maybe I should’ve waited for you to make the move,_ Jester shrugged, regretful, _but I figured oh what the hell, I want to kiss you so I will kiss you. I hope that’s okay? I didn’t ask if you wanted to…_

 _It’s more than okay,_ Caleb said, voice shaky and still unsure if this was real or a dream that would soon come to an end like they all did, _I just never thought you would feel the same as I did._

Jester huffed and gave his shoulder a light shove. _Cay-leb, don’t be silly! I’ve been making it so obvious that I have a_ huge _crush on you for a while now, but you refused to see it._

Caleb smiled despite himself, the disbelief melting away into a warm, pleasant happiness, like the first flower blooming from melted snow in spring. _Maybe so._

She made some more snide comments about his obliviousness. Caleb seized the opportunity to gently pull her face toward his so he could kiss her, breathing in her words and delighting in the way she leaned into his touch and wrapped herself around him. 

That was the first night they spent together and the last they spent alone. Yasha picked up on the change in their relationship right before Jester loudly and without a hint of embarrassment proclaimed that _Caleb and I are totally in love, you guys,_ to everyone, and Yasha gave them the biggest smile he had ever seen adorn her face. The others in the temple were happy but also unsurprised, and Luc collected quite a bit of gold from the other followers in what was apparently his earnings for winning some kind of ongoing bet. 

Caleb and Jester had already been spending much of their time together, and not much changed. Now when Caleb felt the urge to take her hand in his, to kiss her smiling cheek, or wrap her into his arms, he could; and he did, often. Jester would laugh and dance and always had some kind of grin on her face. He thought, foolishly, that things were okay. That she was fine. 

Then he started to notice when the followers said _praise be to the Traveler_ they were looking at Jester with reverence in their eyes, and soon started offering their prayers and devotions to _her_ . The first time someone addressed her as the Traveler, it took a second for him to realize that was _not_ how things were supposed to be. 

Jester froze, eyes wide. As had become so frequent, she feigned a smile, warm and full of mirth that was good enough to fool most, but not Caleb. 

_Don’t be silly,_ Jester waved off the comment. _I’m not the Traveler._

 _You might as well be,_ another piped up. _We’ve never seen or heard from him, but we have you._

 _Yeah,_ said a third. _You’re so powerful and know the ways of the Traveler, so_ _what’s the difference?_

A cold, dawning horror swept over Caleb, nearly crippling in its weight. If that’s how he felt standing on the sidelines watching something no one had planned for take hold, he could not imagine how Jester felt. Yet, as always, she stood there high up on her platform as befitted the High Priestess now deemed goddess, as one by one the followers all kneeled and bowed their heads before her in supplication. The smile did not once waver or leave her face. 

It was too late, far too late for anything to be done. Caleb should’ve seen the warning signs, he should’ve listened to Jester. Now she was far and unreachable from him and he had no idea what to do.

* * *

The gods do not take kindly to mortals trying to ascend to godhood in an insatiable quest for power. Jester was not one of those power-hungry people; she was different. She did not ask for this, she did not want it. Divinity was thrust upon her without consideration. Becoming a god is no simple task and requires tremendous power that most cannot accomplish alone. But Jester was not alone, and there was a devout following prepared to lend their own abilities in order for the Traveler to realize her full glory. 

Jester tried to stop it all from happening, tried to slow things down and get people to stop and consider a different path. They held a deep conviction that this was what she was meant to be, that their worship and belief in the Traveler would become validated for all the world to behold and have no choice but to recognize. As Jester’s pleadings fell on deaf ears, Caleb realized that the followers had stopped viewing Jester as just another person long, long ago—she was a holy object and entity to be worshiped, and they would place her on that pedestal. 

_You don’t have to do this, Jester,_ Caleb insisted. Nightmares where he reached out to her only for her form to dissolve into mist, carried away with the wind still haunting his mind, _we can run away from here, from them, never to be seen again._

_I can’t abandon them, Caleb,_ and in that moment she looked far older and more weary than he had ever seen her before. _They’re counting on me and I can’t abandon them now._

_Yes, you can._ But she didn’t hear him, or chose to ignore him. She already accepted her fate. 

Feeling more afraid than he ever in his life, Caleb reached out to all of their old friends, the once inseparable Mighty Nein. They came immediately when they heard about what lay before Jester. It was the first time the seven of them gathered in one place since Jester took the title of High Priestess years ago.

 _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t protect her,_ Caleb collapsed into Beau’s arms. She hugged him tightly and said, _It’s not your fault, none of this is your fault. We weren’t here to help her either._

 _We have to stop this, we have to do something to save her,_ Caleb pleaded, looking each of his friends in the eye, hoping one or all of them may be the key to setting things right. 

They each tried in turn to talk sense into Jester and the followers, but their reasonings and pleas were unheeded. The followers were steadfast and could not be convinced otherwise. While they remained strict in their beliefs, Jester felt she could not leave them. She was distraught, torn between her perceived duty to her people and her desire to stay with her friends. She cried, more than tears than any one person should have to shed, and Caleb hated that he had any part in causing them. 

On one particularly tense night as the date of her ascension drew closer and preparations were at an end, an argument broke out among the group, with many of them shouting and crying, hurt feelings and broken hearts permeating the air and making everything in this dire situation that much more heavy and difficult to bear. It was Caduceus’s voice, calm and grim and heavy with fate, that cut through and brought the yelling to a halt.

 _You’re not telling us something,_ he said to Jester, eyes grave.

She pursed her lips and turned away, unable to look at him or speak.

 _What?_ Caleb asked Caduceus, _what is it?_

_When she becomes a god, she will have to seal herself behind the Divine Gate like the others if she is to exist and have followers. If not, she will be hunted down and sealed away in the likes of Therizdun and Vecna._

_No, there’s no way,_ Veth said, her voice cracking with held back tears. 

_Say it isn’t true, Jester,_ Fjord whispered, gripping Caduceus’s shoulder tightly and falling into the chair beside him, legs shaking from the revelation. 

Jester said nothing, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. Her face crumpled and fell into her hands as sobs racked her frame. Caleb’s heart ached for him to run over to her, wrap her in his arms and hide away from this cruel world that never deserved her, but he couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. His feet were rooted to the floor, his mind racing and collapsing in on itself from Caduceus’s revelation, and Jester remained there, crying alone. 

_Isn’t there something that can be done?_ Yasha asked.

Caduceus shook his head. _The Wildmother explained it all to me. And I think she told you, too, Jester._

Her sobs quieted enough for Jester to wipes the tears from her cheeks and look up at them finally. _She did. She told me everything. I know what I have to do._

 _And you’re okay with this?_ Beau bit out, the anger on her face marred by the steady flow of tears. _You think we’re just going to let you go through with this?_

Jester’s mouth hardened and she furrowed her brows, tilting her head up in defiance. She looked so small and alone against the rest of them. How did it turn into this? Why was it always Jester by herself, with the universe and everyone in it conspiring against her? 

_You can’t stop me. You can’t stop this._

There was more shouting and arguing back and forth, but Caleb only had eyes for Jester. His entire reality narrowed in on one point, on Jester, his only source of grounding and direction in the chaos. She stood there, quiet and unrelenting as her friends fell apart around her, the calm in the eye of a storm. Caleb realized in that moment that it was all for naught; all this yelling, all this arguing, all their attempts to convince her otherwise. Jester had made up her mind, and instead of listening to her, supporting her, and being there for her like they should have been long ago, they were trying to talk _at_ her, tell her she was wrong, that she didn’t know what she was doing. They were no better than the followers who decided this fate for her. Instead of being present with Jester in her final days as a mortal in this realm, they were tearing each other apart in their own selfish misery. 

_Is this truly what you want?_ Caleb asked her, his voice utterly broken but somehow catching her attention despite the noise from the group. Her violet eyes turned to him, and Caleb marveled at how after all this time she still managed to take his breath away. 

_Yes._

He nodded, and his heart didn’t break because it had stopped beating minutes ago. He was numb, perfectly numb, and that suited him just fine. Now he could pretend, like Jester had been doing for months now, to be okay with this. It’s what he owed her. 

_Alright. I’ll support you in whatever way I can._

Her lips trembled in a tiny smile. _Thank you, Caleb._

Beau whirled around to him, eyes wide and disbelieving. _Are you serious? What the hell, Caleb_? The betrayal in her voice was unmistakable, and Caleb would have felt bad at the thought of causing Beau pain, but he had no time for that now. Jester was what mattered. 

_It’s what Jester wants,_ he said simply. 

Caduceus caught his eye and gave him a nod. The rest of them quieted as they wrestled with the idea, the inevitability that their dear friend and heart of the group would soon leave them, forever. 

_I’m sorry for hurting you all,_ Jester whispered, _but I would love to have you with me when I… go._

Beau gathered Jester in her arms, and Veth followed suit, then Yasha, and then the rest of the team enveloped Jester in a bittersweet embrace.

_We’ll always be here for you._

* * *

For all the preparation, for all the build up, tension, anxiety, and looming fear, when Jester ascended it was not at the elaborate ceremony everyone at the temple had been working on for weeks. For a mortal to become a god, it usually requires a huge amount of magical power and the bending of reality, for they do not truly earn it and are unworthy of being divine. Jester was different; she had the belief and devotion of hundreds of people, and she had always been powerful with divine magic. 

She ascended in the middle of the night, with Caleb’s arms wrapped around her. He had slept soundly, a slumber unplagued by dreams, and when he awoke he was alone in a cold bed, the imprint of Jester’s body still beside him. She usually rose before him, so he hadn’t been concerned at first, but when she didn’t turn up for breakfast and no one else had seen her that morning, the temple fell into panic and searched everywhere for her. 

Had she ran away? Had she been kidnapped? 

It was Luc who was the first to notice. He casted Convene and when he beseeched the Traveler for guidance, it was Jester’s presence that answered him. 

_She’s done it,_ he gasped, his hands shaking and face one of pure awe. _She’s ascended._

 _Is she… sealed behind the Divine Gate?_ Fjord asked tentatively, afraid of the answer.

Luc closed his eyes and asked the question to Jester, his god. He nodded a few seconds later. _Yes. The gods welcomed her with open arms._

Caduceus knelt down and bowed his head in prayer. _Then it is done and she is where she needs to be._

Caleb fell to his knees beside him, not to pray, but because he found his legs could no longer support him. His breath was thinning out, his surroundings being eclipsed into darkness on the edges. She was gone. Jester was gone. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye, to give her a kiss and tell her he loved her. They had shared quiet smiles and he had kissed her forehead as she fell asleep last night, and he held her in his arms as he slept, and then she was gone. It was unfair. It was unbearable. Caleb wanted to scream, to burn this temple down and everything with it, to feel his skin turn to ash because that would be less painful than knowing that he would never be able to hold Jester again. Never be able to see her giggle and smile as she made a silly joke, to grow old with her. She was gone and would live forever, and Caleb would be nothing but a small blip in time for her. 

Caduceus’s hand steadied him. _The gods are always with us. Th_ _ey watch us, guide us, and help us when we are in need of it._

 _She is always with us,_ one of the followers said, _and we honor her with laughter, with mischief, with creating a little bit of happy chaos each day._

 _This is wrong, it’s all wrong, it’s_ wrong, Caleb wanted to scream at them. But it was too late. 

It was done.

* * *

Life, cruelly, continued on as normal. Seasons changed, people came and went, died and lived, and years passed. The Traveler grew in prominence and her following grew. The story of Jester Lavorre, a mortal who ascended, spread across the lands and gained the attention of many. Other temples were created to accommodate the growth of the religion. The followers fought for their rights to practice and worship in peace (though they were also fine with remaining unofficial, as the Traveler was and remains a god to those on the fringe). 

The Mighty Nein drifted apart again. Fjord and Caduceus went back to the Savalier Wood to continue their duties for the Wildmother. Beau and Yasha went traveling together, the missions for the Cobalt Soul suiting Yasha’s wanderlust perfectly, and Beau was grateful for the companionship. Veth and Yeza moved into the temple outside Nicodranas to be with Luc and Caleb.

Caleb stayed at the temple. He built his life there around Jester, and he did not know what to do now that she was gone. For a long time he was lost. He would wander the halls and grounds aimlessly, a ghost in the flesh. He had nothing but time and freedom, and that cursed him to do nothing but think, and regret, and hate himself like never before. 

He realized that he loved Jester selfishly. He had been no better than the followers, whom he hated viscerally, because he too idolized Jester and put her on a pedestal, made her something holy and untouchable and greater than he in his mind. Caleb loved her truly and for who she was, yes, but by thinking himself as lesser than her, unworthy of her, he had done the same as venerating her like a god. He thought he was being unselfish, giving, loving her with all his being, but had he actually cared for her, allowed her to be herself? Or did he just delude himself into thinking that he did?

If he had been more aware, less caught up in his own world and feelings and thoughts, maybe he would’ve seen the signs. He would’ve seen that Jester was overwhelmed and scared and things were spiraling out of control. She was only one person. She was a woman caught up in a tide that pulled her deep into the sea, and no one thought to throw her a lifeline. 

As the years passed and Caleb agonized endlessly over everything that went wrong, everything he could’ve done right, he grew increasingly convinced that there had been a way to stop this. If only he had just known. If only…

Caleb rarely left his study that Jester made him. He read through all the books in there until their spines were cracked and the pages worn. Maybe there was something he missed, some clue that would point him in the right direction. He studied, and theorized, and pushed the limits of magic. He hardly ate or slept or spoke with other people. 

_This is no way to live, Caleb,_ Veth said, but she assisted him in his experiments anyway. _Jester would not be happy to see you like this._

 _On the contrary, this is the most alive I’ve felt in ages,_ Caleb remarked, and the weight of the truth weighed heavy on him. He suddenly had purpose again, a goal, something that made sense. 

Veth sighed, resigned. _If this is truly what you want._

The familiarity of the words gave him pause. He turned to Veth and squeezed her hand. _Thank you for helping me._

_Of course, Caleb. Whatever you need._

* * *

Jester once asked him if he still wanted to learn how to bend time to his will in order to stop himself from killing his parents. 

_Do you still want to go back?_ Her voice was light and airy in their darkened bedroom, the faint light of the moon seeping in from the windows. 

_What do you mean?_

_Do you want to go back? To before? When your parents were still…_

_Ah,_ he said, and pulled her closer to him, tucking her head under his chin. _Sometimes, yes, I do. I miss them very much. Painfully so. I wonder what lives they could have lived, how different I would be, how different my life would be._

There was a moment’s pause as he mulled over his thoughts. Jester was unusually quiet, not speaking up or offering her opinion as she was wont to. 

_Jester?_ He asked.

 _It’s just,_ her voice was smaller than before, trapped by his chest, _if you want to go back, I won’t stop you. It’s okay, of course. Maybe I could come with you? I don’t know how it works._

Caleb heard the insecurity and hurt seeping into her tone, could feel the way she pressed her face into his chest as if to hide. He understood what she feared, what his potential desire to still research that kind of magic could mean for him, for them.

He placed a kiss on her head. _It is not something I still want to pursue. It is naught but a passing thought, leftover from an earlier time. I am quite content here, now, with you, and the life we have built._

His hand found her chin and gently lifted it up so that he could look into her shining eyes. _I do not wish to leave you. Ever._

Jester’s lips trembled and Caleb worried she would cry, but a smile appeared instead, and she hugged him tighter. 

_Thank you, Caleb. I don’t want to leave you, either._

He told her the truth that night. Caleb had long since abandoned—or rather, no longer felt the need—to seek out time and reality bending magic. He learned to live with his past wrongs and while he could not accept them, he could as Caliana once said, not make his pockets so heavy. 

Now, he digs through his old notes and books, throwing papers around without care in a way that he would normally have a fit over. For years he had agonized over questions of fate, free will, ethics and morality, of learning to live with your lot in life or being the director of your fate. Why should the gods decide? Why did only they get to twist the sands of time and judge right from wrong? What gave them the right? 

And if a mortal could become a god against her own will, how justified could the gods’ existence actually be?

He threw himself back into his study with a fervor he never possessed before. When he started his journey to become a powerful wizard and correct his past mistakes after escaping the Sanitorium, he crossed paths with the Mighty Nein, and they became more important to him than the distant memories of his parents. Their love trumped the hate he carried for himself. He found something else to live for.

With Jester gone, trapped in a cage made by and for the gods—the thing she had tried to escape from all those years ago when she left the Chateau—the research wasn’t for him anymore. It wasn’t about him, it never was. This was for her. 

Jester deserved to be free, and he would help her.

* * *

_Do you ever try to speak with Jester?_ Beau asks him one night after she and Yasha returned from an extended trip that took them all the way to Tal’Dorei. He remembers vaguely hearing she and Veth talk about the members of the Council over dinner, but his mind had been elsewhere, as always. Trying new theories and revising formulas, if he adjusted a spell component this way and said the incantation with this cadence, maybe it could work. 

Beau’s eyes had been on him all night. He’s sure Veth told her and Yasha about his current deteriorating state, the way he works from dawn till dusk, hardly leaving his chambers, back permanently bent over his desks and books hoping to have a breakthrough. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate and understand their concern—he really, truly does. Caleb knows how concerning his ragged appearance looks, how sunken and sallow his skin has become, his hair a ragged mess. But it will all be worth it, everything will be alright again if he could just figure this out. 

He pauses at Beau’s question, his quill hovering over the parchment where he was scribbling out numbers. 

_I do not,_ he says. _Do you?_

 _Yeah, I do. Sometimes._ Beau admits, leaning against his desk, her arms crossed. _It was Yasha who suggested I try it. I didn’t hear her voice or anything, but Yasha says that not all gods are as direct in their communication like the Wildmother._

_Did you, uh,_ Caleb wets his lips nervously, _connect with her? Feel her?_

Beau is quiet as she mulls over her answer. _Yeah, I think I did. You know how Jester had those bells and charms all over her clothes and on her horns? I heard that same sound—that jingling she used to make whenever she walked by. I thought I was imagining it at first, but it sounded so close to me, like she was right behind me._

Caleb’s grip on the quill tightens, feels like it might snap under his hold. He relaxes his fingers, sets the utensil down, and sighs. 

_Why are you telling me this, Beauregard?_

Her eyes reflect the sadness he sees in his own everyday. 

_I’m not gonna try to tell you to stop. I know you won’t. I don’t even know if I want you to. But I want to know,_ she says, turning to face him fully. Despite the years both of them have accumulated, Beauregard still radiates strength and power. _Are you doing this for her? Or for yourself?_

Caleb mimics her posture, unblinking as he replies, _You know me, Beauregard. You know that I constantly question myself and worry whether or not I am doing the right thing. Have you ever seen me so sure about something?_

She examines him for a moment, then, _Only when it counted._

Caleb nods. _Then we have an understanding._

Beau's form moves in a blur and suddenly her fist catches him on his shoulder. While she had certainly put none of her considerable strength and precision behind the strike, it still rocked his old bones and made him wince. 

_Yeah, yeah, I get you,_ Beau rolls her eyes and starts for the door. _Hey, when we meet in the next life, I’ll try not to hit you so much!_

Caleb huffs out a laugh, half an exhalation of pain, but smiles nonetheless. 

_Somehow, I doubt that._

* * *

He did try to reach out to Jester. 

Not through prayer, no. He was never a religious man, he did not feel he owed the gods anything, especially after what they did to her. If Caleb tried to pray to Jester, it would feel wrong, a farce, an insult or dishonor to her.

Instead, he would just talk to her. As if she were there in the room with her, perched on his armchair, doodling in her sketchbook and humming a nonsensical tune while he studied the arcane. He would tell her about his day, bounce theories off of her, recount stories from his brief but happy childhood before he went to the Academy, share gossip from the temple. 

Jester had always been the more talkative one, sharing her love and enthusiasm for life and the world as second nature to her as breathing. In her absence, Caleb felt the need to repay all that she shared with him. She used to speak to the Traveler like he was right there beside her, always watching and listening and delighting in her tales. Caleb figures she would do the same for them, that she was just around the corner or hiding in the shadows, the hood of her green cloak obscuring her face, a sly grin on her lips. 

So he talks to her, tells her of his progress in his research, and reminds her every day that he loves her and will see her soon again. He’s never gotten any kind of response, not even a faint sound like Beauregard described, but Caleb figured the Traveler is a busy and popular god, and she shouldn't play favorites. He doesn’t want to take up too much of her time anyway. 

_You will get out of that prison,_ he says to her, _one way or another._

* * *

Caleb Widogast becomes the first mortal to ever successfully create a spell that can send the user back in time. 

When he casts the spell, it doesn’t hurt him, it doesn’t tear a hole in time and space and rip apart the fabric of reality. It is smooth, the feeling similar to Polymorph where the caster can feel their mind and body being altered into something else, though this time it feels like slipping into a pair of old, familiar clothes, like walking down a path you haven’t traversed in many years. 

It is, for all intents and purposes, the perfect time traveling spell, and that is why the gods try to stop him. 

He opens his eyes and does not see the familiar sight of his parent’s old farm house. There is not the smell of fresh dew on the grass and green beans ripe for the picking. Instead of Una and Leofric Ermendrud walking out to greet him, before him stands an impossibly tall gate, shimmering with radiant light in a vast sea of both emptiness and the makeup of matter itself. Caleb realizes quickly that he is standing before the Divine Gate, the only separation between him and the pantheon of powerful, immortal beings who oversee the world. 

Jester stands on the other side, looking at him with that familiar grin and sparkle in her eye.

“Jester,” he breathes out and runs to her, hungry and desperate to soak up every minute, every second of this blessed opportunity to see her.

“Hi Caleb,” she says, and her voice, _oh gods_ her voice. It was the first rain after a long drought, the sun finally emerging from the clouds after an impenetrable darkness. He had forgotten what his heartbeat felt like in his chest until the curl of her accent around his name set it pumping again. 

“I’m sorry, Jester, _liebling,_ I’m so sorry for everything,” the words come spilling out of his mouth like a damn bursting and releasing all that had been trapped. He’s crying, he realizes, and it’s alright, it’s only natural because he has done the impossible and now he is here with _Jester_. 

“I should’ve realized, I should’ve done something to save you—” Jester’s hand rises and actually reaches _beyond_ the glowing bars of the Divine Gate. One delicate finger rests upon his lips to silence him. 

“Caleb,” she says, at first glance she still looks like the same old Jester, bells and cloak and flowing skirts, but there is a new presence, a certain glow to her and substance that wasn’t there before. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

He lips part to vehemently disagree, but she continues on. “It actually wasn’t even about you.”

Such words would normally send a cold fear crawling down his spine, but this was not a normal situation. He felt something like hope bloom inside of him. 

“I made the choice to be the Traveler,” she tells him, her voice sure and steady. The bars separating glow with the cadence of her words. “It was what I wanted.” 

“I know. I knew the moment you chose,” he whispers, and her finger frees his lips so that he can speak, her hand traveling to his cheek and stroking it gently. 

“You weren’t really trying to turn back time,” she says, a grin sprouting on her face again. “You were trying to get the attention of the gods.”

He nods, a hesitant smile returning hers. “You always knew me so well, blueberry.” 

“ _Of course,_ ” she huffs. “I know a prank when I see one, and you pulled a _great_ prank, Caleb. You made _a lot_ of people here nervous and upset. It was _so_ funny to watch.” She snickers and her cheeks pucker and Caleb feels himself falling in love with her all over again. 

“So? How did I do?” He asks, still half believing that this naught but a dream and he’ll wake up, back in his bed, old and alone. 

Jester’s hands move down to his, grasping them in hers, warmth and reassurance seeping into him. Then, she does something truly amazing: Jester takes a step forward through the Divine Gate, the heat of the powerful radiant energy flaring briefly, but it does not so much as singe her. She passes through, unharmed, and moves to stand in front of him, looking up into his eyes. 

“By order and permission of the pantheon of gods of Exandria, I have been given permission to briefly exit the Divine Gate in order to apprehend the mortal Caleb Widogast, who has broken and deified the laws of time. You are now ordered by the might of the gods to cease and desist for fear of eternal punishment,” she pauses, and then her grin grows and curls, her eyes flashing and the air around her shimmering with a faint, sparkling glow. “Or you can accept the position as the Guardian and Overseer of Time. It is a _very big_ deal and very serious. Only the _most_ qualified would be offered such a position.” 

Caleb squeezes her hand and pulls her closer. “And what duties are expected of me?”

“The Guardian and Overseer of Time is to ensure that time continues to flow without disturbance or interruption, from both mortals and the divine. You are something separate from the gods and operate outside of their purview. Yours is a very special position.” 

“Can I roam wherever I pleased, on this realm or any others?” 

Her shoulder lifts in a flippant shrug and she slides closer to him, their chests nearly brushing. “I don’t see why not. I certainly won’t stop you. The Divine Gate won’t either.” 

“Alright. Well then, Traveler, I accept—on one condition.”

“And what is that?”

Caleb wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her against him. It feels so right, so natural. Like coming home and the sun setting, the moon rising, and flowers blooming. Jester laces her hands behind his neck and stands on the tips of her toes, like she always did. 

“I want you to come with me.”

“I was already planning to,” Jester giggles and rubs her nose against his, her lips tracing errant paths over his jaw, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth. “The gods never said _when exactly_ I was supposed to return back behind the gates, and, well, I _am_ the god of Trickery.” 

Caleb wraps a piece of her lavender hair around his finger, and marvels that everything in his life has lead up to this moment, that his is where he is meant to be. 

“I think we make quite the pair, you and I.” 

“I agree.” 

“Where should we go to first, Traveler?”

“ _Everywhere._ ” 

“Alright, but first,” and Caleb cradled her face in his hands and as she tangled her fingers in his hair, he leaned down to meet her lips and they kissed for minutes, hours, and days. He cared not, because they now had all the time in the world, if he willed it. 

And he did.


End file.
